


poetry from undergrad

by tigriswolf



Series: written for school [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6221059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two poems I wrote during my undergrad years, as school assignments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. found poem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written November 2007
> 
> For my English class, we were to create a found poem. For anyone who doesn't know, this means taking other people's words and rearranging them. The following is mine.

broken doll,  
just like time  
now grown cold—  
you are not torn,  
but too much the same.  
Time itself’s a feather  
out of tune.  
All that you got is  
still unwritten:  
andesite, time building,  
ground of all,  
pity me when I am old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ground of all – Aemilia Lanyer “Eve’s Apology”  
> You are not torn – Anne Sexton “In Celebration of My Uterus”  
> too much the same – Dorothy Allison “the women who hate me”  
> all that you got – Jean Grae “Block Party”  
> broken doll – Maya Angelou “Mother: A Cradle to Hold Me”  
> pity me when I am – Joanna Bailie “A Mother to her Waking Infant”  
> old – Joanna Bailie “A Mother to her Waking Infant”  
> time itself’s a feather – Elizabeth Jennings “One Flesh”  
> out of tune – Adrienne Rich “Living in Sin”  
> still unwritten – Natasha Bedingfield “Unwritten”   
> andesite - Geology textbook  
> time building - Geology lecture  
> just like time - English discussion


	2. Hallowed Halls, in the Style of Walt Whitman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written February 26, 2010
> 
> The teacher sent us out to wander campus and jot down some notes about what Whitman might have included in a poem. All told, it took me about ten minutes.

O hallowed halls, students, keepers of tomorrow’s knowledge, tell me your story and allow me to sing  
your song, your hymn to him, the one who gave you what you are.

Chairs and tables, bones left of a computer, eyes and ears and tongue of a knowledge-giver,  
A knowledge-drinker, child of she who ate the apple and let knowledge pour into the world.

Lone student studying furiously, I sing the song of you and wonder what great thoughts will you share? Hunched over books beneath the strong great Oak, can you, heir of knowledge, feel the ghosts of the  
trees who fell, yet still growing in the roots?  
They were many and now are less, victims of Nature’s fury and beguiling wiles,  
And you, hunched over your books, are their legacy of knowledge and truth and strength. 

Parking lot and cloudy sky, rains drawing near to bathe us, same water from the sky that the  
great lizards drank, eons ago—  
What knowledge could you give us, o water, what pearls of wisdom are found in your oysters? 

And cars, I’ve not forgotten you, covered in raindrops, red and white and grey, children of technology, Created by knowledge, our chariots to our knowledge, tooting horns and rumbling wheels, let me sing  
my hymn for you.

Buildings older than many I know, tell me your story and let your song continue to grow in those  
students who long to learn,  
All students from dozens of places, from cities and countries far from this ground, sing together, a  
multitude of voices raised high,  
And know these hallowed halls, are your teacher and your guide.


End file.
